We Serve the Light
by an axious apple
Summary: When Connor received a letter from the Council there's nothing he can do except to accept their plea of help. What he thought was a simple mission, turned out to be more than he bargained for.
1. prologue

The clouds are grey, signaling that a storm is about to come by. Meanwhile, in a room inside the homestead, a young man, Connor is his name, sit on a chair besides a bed where Achilles, his mentor currently laying on.

"…When you first came to me, you understood what had to be done. Swore you see it through" Achilles said to Connor with a raspy voice as thunder goes by "if not for the brotherhood, for your people – and all those threatened by the Templars." He continues.

Before Connor met his father he might have think the same, but things change he thought. The more time he spent with his father the more he thinks that maybe, just maybe, that the Templars and the Assassins can unite. That two parties can just shake hands, forget the bloodshed between them and work together, forge a better future. "But with Lee gone, my father might-"

"Listen to me" Achilles, interrupt him "you have not come this far to throw it all away over misplaced sentiment. Both men must die"

"A-Achilles…" Connor stammered, but Achilles held out his hand to show that this conversation is over.

With mixed emotions, Connor stands up and went to the door.

"wait…" Achilles said suddenly, stopping him on his tracks "I am old, Connor. I don't know how much time I have left…" Achilles stopped and let out a cough "before I leave, I wanted to say that I am grateful to have met you." A little smile escaped his lips "You have given an old man hope that all is not lost, and for that I thank you."

Connor didn't know what to say. He stood there near the doorframe, mouth agape.

"I'll make you proud, old man." Connor said, not caring that his voice was quavering.

"Oh, Connor..." Achilles sighed "You already have."


	2. Arno I

**Uh, hello! Thanks for reading this story! This is my first one so heavy criticisms are necessary. Seriously, I need your comments. And I'm terribly sorry for my grammar! English is not my native language and I'm really confused on what tense I have to use, so if you're confused like, "is this present or past jfc the writer is a fucking terrible" well, that's because I am, sry.**

 **I also don't know how to make the fancy lines separating the story from the AN**

 **DISCLAIMER : I don't own assassin's creed. (much wow)**

 _You are a noble young man, Arno._ _Stubborn and full of conviction_ He remembered his adoptive father saying that to him on his 16th name day _see to it that you live your life still holding to that trait._

Oh, he's still stubborn. No doubt about it.

Arno lay on his mattress, trying to get some rest. One his cell mate was playing the viola quite beautifully and Arno was hoping that the harmony of it would lull him to sleep. It didn't. The song that the man was playing was disturbingly familiar to the song that they play at the Versailles when he was young. Instead of peaceful thoughts in his mind, like rainbows and dancing bunnies, his was swarmed by memories that should've stayed hidden. Arno couldn't bear it anymore, "Hey, could you play another song?"

And so the man played another song. Equally as sad and depressing as the previous one. Arno heard grunts from the other side of the cell. "Can you not, mate? I'm depressed as it is"

Arno sighed and got up from his mattress and stretched his arms. He strolled to the window, it looks more like a poorly cut out hole with bars than a window, and he saw that it was still dark. The moons' light pierced through the clouds casted an ominous shadow on earth and whoever still walked at this peaceful hour. From his view, he could see the walkway leading up to Bastille's giant gate.

It's his conviction he's worried about.

Arno rested his arms on the windows' ledge, admiring the serene city of Paris. On rare occasions, when he was still in the foster care of monsieur de la Serre, he would stayed late up at night and admire the view, it was mostly as a way to kill the time from his insomnia, and in time that ritual became a habit.

Although, Arno also questions whether his noble qualities are still there.

Arno rests by the ledge for a time, unwavering. Yawning occasionally but still couldn't sleep. His senses suddenly flared as he saw a figure walking towards the prisons' gate, he was wearing a black outfit, refined and regal and Arno could saw the whites in his hair. Why would an old man be visiting the bloody Bastille in this hour?

He tried out his other vision on the man, expecting it to be white, and it was. Arno felt a presence beside him and it was Bellec.

"You're still up?" He asked

"yes," Arno answered "I couldn't sleep."

Bellec rests his back on the wall next to the window. Arno saw that the old man has already been swallowed up by the prisons' gate, with guards trailing behind him.

"Why are you still up?" Arno asked back. He didn't realized how hoarse his voice was until just then.

Bellec was silent for a while. "Waiting,"

Arno snorted. The answer wasn't very specific. Bellec do liked being the mysterious one. "For what exactly?"

Just as he asked that, the bars from the outer cell screeched, metal against metal and finally a sharp _click_ , the outer cell door was opened and in came the old man that Arno saw a few moments back. The guards didn't paid much attention to lighting the fires so Arno couldn't saw the old mans' features much. The only thing he could make out was that he's noble probably. The way he walked and looked other people in the eye. And he also had a ponytail, although Arno was confused why he had to point _that_ out.

Besides him, Bellec tensed.

The old man walked past their cell, towards the cell where they kept that strange man, what's his name? Donatello?

"Marquis de Sade?" the old man called out. _Ah yes, de Sade, very close Arno_.

"Depends on who is asking, monsieur" the Marquis called back.

They went on a conversation in whispered volumes. Bellec elbowed Arno's arm rather forcefully and said in a hushed tone "Concentrate on what they're saying."

He raised an eyebrow, "why don't _you_ do it?" to which Bellec responded by flicking his forehead. Arno pouted and rubbed his forehead but does what he requested anyways. He tapped to his other senses and tried to eavesdrop on them.

"It's not….fault…..framed….was not…. Agreed…"

"you're….nuisance….not fit….the order….he would be….a shame."

Arno still needed practice on his hearing skills but as soon as he heard the word 'order' he stiffened and slowly met Bellec's eye. Unlike him, Bellec was calm. _He knew this event would happened._ Arno thought.

Arno kept on listening but the voices was drowned by his cell mate's viola. From what he heard, the old man has an accent. An accent that Arno was familiar with. _Irish, I think._

Bellec said to him, "He's an important one." His eyes still fixed on the old man. "Up in the order's hierarchy."

"You know that man?"

"Met him. Once. Back then, I only heard storied about what he did and meeting him in person… it was surreal."

Arno sensed a deep hatred from Bellec. He can see his mentor's eyes storming inside. If looks can kill that old man would be dead by now.

"You still didn't answer my question."

Bellec was about to answer until he heard shouting from the guards. Turned out that the old man was strangling the Marquis so hard that his face turned white.

"If by any chance you ever get out of this shithole, never show your face to me, ever." The man snarled.

De Sade responded by a series of choking and chortling. He gripped the man's hand, trying to pry it off his neck.

The man threw the Marquis angrily walked towards the outer door and if Arno didn't believe in luck, he sure did then because just as he passed Arno's cell, the moon's light shone towards the window's bars and their eyes met.

Arno did a double take and he swore that the man did too but quickly recovers and continued on his way.

"That man's face is… familiar." He whispered to Bellec the second the man stepped outside.

Bellec nodded "Remember his face, pisspot. You're gonna see him again soon."


End file.
